


St. Patrick’s Day

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 21:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is gonna get weird so hold on, a cas x reader fic where it’s St Patrick’s day and the reader is Irish and she decides to flaunt off her accent and language but Cas gets turned on by her speaking Irish? It’s really weird sorry *runs and hides in corner*</p>
            </blockquote>





	St. Patrick’s Day

Warnings: Fluff, poorly written Irish Gaelic (I had to use google translator so I’m not sure how accurate it is, sorry), smut, unprotected sex

Fic:

Every St. Patrick’s day, you went a little overboard, maybe it was because of your Irish blood. Normally you tried to downplay your accent, afraid that Sam and Dean would make fun of you, but when St. Patrick’s Day came around, you went all out. You gave up trying to control your accent, started speaking in Irish Gaelic, listened to all kinds of Irish music, cooked Irish foods, and made sure there was green everywhere. Everything you wore was green, from your dress to your shoes, and even your bra and panties. If this wasn’t overboard, you didn’t know what was.

You stand by the stove, preparing a shepherd’s pie and singing along with Flogging Molly, the Proclaimers, and all your favorite Irish music. You stir the filling of the pie as you hear the flap of wings, signaling that your boyfriend of several months had just arrived. “Top ‘o the mornin’ to ya Cas,” you say jokingly.

“Hello Y/N,” Cas responds, “You look very … green … today.”

“Go raibh maith agat,” you say. Cas tilts his head at you. “Thank you,” you clarify, “It’s Gaelic.” A smile spreads across his lips. “Speakin’ of bein’ green,” you say, “ya seem to be lackin’ in that department.” You reach out and pinch his arm. Cas doesn’t even flinch.

“What was that for?” Cas asks.

“It’s St. Patrick’s Day,” you say as an explanation, “If ya don’t wear green on St. Patrick’s day, ya get pinched!” You turn your attention back to the stove. “Happy St. Patrick’s Day!” you tell him.

“Oh, happy St. Patrick’s Day,” Cas responds, “Would it be appropriate to change to a green tie, rather than a blue one?”

“Just for today,” you respond and Cas snaps his fingers to change his tie, “Cas, could ya hand me the worcestershire sauce please?” Cas looks at you in confusion once again. “That glass bottle,” you clarify. Cas hands you the bottle. “Go raibh maith agat,” you say again.

“You’re welcome,” Cas responds. His arms slip around your waist as you turn back to the stove. “Why does your voice sound different than normal?” he asks.

“Cos this is what it sounds like when I’m not tryin’ to control it,” you respond.

“I much prefer it this way,” Cas says, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I ndáiríre?” you ask before realizing that Cas doesn’t understand you, “Really?” Cas hums in affirmation.

“I enjoy when you speak in Gaelic as well,” he adds, letting his lips skim down your neck.

“Castiel,” you say, pushing him away from you so you could finish making your shepherd’s pie.

“Say it again,” Cas says.

“Cas,” you say as you furrow your brow at him. You move to put the pie filling in a glass pan before layering the mashed potatoes on top. You drag a fork through the potatoes and leave a ridged design through them, hoping they would brown and create patterns while in the oven. You set a timer and place the pie in the oven. As soon as you stand back up, Cas’ hands are all over you. He turns you to face him and presses you against the counter.

“I want to hear you say my name, my full name, in that beautiful accent,” he says, his pupils dilated.

“Castiel,” you practically moan for him. A smile spreads across his face. He presses his lips against the side of your neck and sucks at the skin. You tilt your head to the side in order to give him better access.

“Keep talking,” he mumbles against your neck, “I want to hear your voice.” Cas’ hands slide up under your dress and his thumbs rub circles against the skin of your thighs.

“What d'ya want me to say?” you ask breathlessly. Your fingers trail lightly against his scalp.

“Anything,” Cas says, “My name, the names of the planets, the names of the stars, you could read me the phone book for all I care.” Cas rocks his hips against you and you can feel his hardened length trapped beneath layers of clothing. You groan at the thought of him being this turned on by just your voice.

“Castiel,” you moan, “Gráim thú.” You translate for him, “Castiel, I love you.” Cas’ arms tighten around you. He lifts you up and places you on the counter. His hands push your dress up around your waist and he presses a thumb against your clit. “Cas!” you gasp. He smiles at you as he rubs circles around your clit, drawing soft moans and whimpers from your lips. You can feel your panties getting damp. Cas shifts his hand and cups your sex, pressing his hand against you. You rock your hips and grind yourself against Cas’ hand.

“Cas, le do thoil, please,” you beg. Without missing a beat, Cas removes his hand from you and quickly undoes his pants, pulling his hard cock free from its confines. He takes himself in his hand and presses his dripping tip against your cloth covered clit, rubbing it in slow circles. “Castiel, please,” you moan as you grab his tie and pull him in to kiss him. His lips crash against yours, but he quickly pulls away.

“Kissing only keeps you from talking,” Cas says. You try to tug on his tie again but he pulls it from his neck and tosses it to the side.

“Castiel,” you moan and groan as he continues to tease you. He finally gives in and moves your panties to the side. He lines himself up with you before pushing in with one quick thrust. You cry out as he fills you so completely, hitting every spot inside you perfectly. Cas’ arms wrap around the small of your back, holding you in place as he thrusts in and out of you at a vigorous pace. “Castiel,” you groan, it only makes his thrusts harder and faster. You cry out a string of expletives and praises for Cas, Gaelic interspersed with English.

Cas’ lips attach to your neck and suck at the skin as your walls begin to tighten around him. His thrusts become erratic and the feeling of his cock twitching inside you draws you into orgasm. “Castiel!” you cry out as your walls clench down around him. Waves of pleasure crash over your body. Cas delivers his final thrust and he cums deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed. Cas stills and you each struggle to regain your breath.

“Y/N,” he whispers as his hand reaches up to caress your cheek. His thumb brushes across your lips, causing you to smile. Cas leans down to kiss you as he pulls out of you slowly. “I love you,” Cas says, “And everything about you, especially your voice.”

“Gráim thú, Castiel,” you respond, a smile spreading across Cas face. You hop down from the counter and straighten yourself out as Cas fixes his appearance. Noticing a certain green article of clothing missing from his person, you reach out and pinch him again. He furrows his brow at you.

“What was that one for?” Cas asks.

“You’re not wearin’ any green,” you say as you bend over to pick up Cas’ tie from the floor. In one swift movement, Cas wraps you up in his arms and pulls you tightly against him.

“You won’t be wearing any green by the time I’m done with you,” Cas whispers in your ear.


End file.
